Michael Joseph Wells

[wells]

Michael Joseph Wells


PB: Paul Blackthorne

[/li][li]~My Name is Jaxson
[/li][li]~I am 20 years old.
[/li][li]~I found the site through Sober
[/li][li]~If you wish to talk to me, the best way to reach me is through PM
[/li][li]~I have been role playing for (6) years and I am (Sauron-Level.)

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~*Full Name: Michael Joseph Wells

~*Alias: Mike, Mikey, Joey, Joe. He's from New Orleans, and they' big on nickname in the Big Easy.

~*Age: Forty-One

~*Race: Human Hunter

~*Gender: Male

*Appearance: At first glance Michael is just another ordinary fae in the crowd. With salt and pepper gray and black hair, a face that seems to have permanent five o'clock shadow glued to it, and short never kept, dark colored hair. Michael stands tall at 6'3", his body lean though hardly the rippling mass of muscles some younger Hunters are dedicated to looking like. All in all he's just another man in the crowd, and that's they way he likes it. People who blend in hardly ever get shot.

It seems that Michael has taken the idea of blending in even to his clothing style. Dark greens, browns, grays and other earthy tones are all he's seen in. Jeans, simple shirts, never sunglasses, but always the same tanned leather jacket. Cliches be damned, Mike always wanted a leather jacket and the second he got one it was love at first sight. Plus the thing has seen more than it's fair share of fights and still keeps the Hunter warm; to him that says something about his prized jacket.

~*Personality: Some people might think all Hunter's are the same; brutish, immortal-hating monster slayers who lost mommy and daddy in an attack at a young age. That's hardly Mike or his mindset. For the most part Mike follows the mainstream of Hunter ideas, and that is that Immortals are bad. However, Mike's world isn't quit so black and white, after all in the two decades he's been roaming the globe striking back at the boogeyman he has to admit he's come across more than one Vampire and Lycan who he had to admit he called a friend.

Michael is a sarcastic, glass half-full, there is always a rainbow over the horizon kinda guy. Even if ten Vampires had him cornered he'd still try to crack a joke and get a smile, after all, life is too short to be some grim-faced hard ass all the time. This characteristic has brought Mike to shouting matches with many Hunters before, most see him as an unprofessional man who can't get out of game. However, the sarcasm merely hides a good-natured man, it's a mask to keep the true self within protected. After all, in his line of work Michael can't afford to let just anyone see who he really is, and if that means coming off as an aloof Hunter than by all means that's fine with him.

Those that know him well enough to dare get away with calling him Mikey or even Joey know the true side of the Hunter as well. Protecting and driven by a strong moral compass, Michael views himself and all those like him as warriors, self-appointed to protect the good against the bad. However, he sees good as the quality of the person, not their race. For that over his many years of work Michael has made many friends of Immortals, a few lovers, and a whole troop of enemies. But hey, that's gotta mean he's doing something right, doesn't it?

~*History: Michael Wells was born the only child to Joseph and Temperance Wells. Joseph was a man born and raised in Chicago, the same city where he attended college and where he served as a Detective for seven years. Michael's mother, Temperance, was a Creole woman, her heritage a mix of Haitian-slave and french blood. Temperance lived her entire life in the city of New Orleans, and it was when Joseph transferred to New Orleans that he met his future wife. However, that's enough on mommy and daddy.

Mike grew up in very...open household to say the least. His Father was a man who was more than happy to let his wife indulge in her family traditions, namely Voodoo. With Joseph lacking any form of faith he had no objections to his wife and her family raising Michael in the beliefs of Voodoo, which given his future profession turned out to be a great decision.

With his Mother's influence upon his beliefs and a Father that from an early age began mentoring and tutoring him upon the workings of being a detective. However, you might be asking how any of this leads to now? Well, without dwelling on all the sentimental things like his highschool sweethearts or his first break up, it's safe to assume Michael had an average, exciting life for a growing up boy in New Orleans. He even ended up attending Louisiana State University and receiving a degree and sociology with a focus on theology. His obsession with the idea of Heaven and Hell stemmed from his upbringing in Voodoo and his own questions about faith.

As the years passed Michael continued his own education, traveling both Western and Eastern Europe studying ancient churches and the timelines of spreading religions over regions. Michael's graduate work continued on for three years before his thesis paper was presented covering the evolution of pagan, native religions as Christianity spread and took hold in their homes. Effectively his Doctorate was presented to him on the grounds that he saw Christianity as a parasitic creation of greedy, power-hungry men.

And did I forget to mention that in the course of pursuing his work he stumbled upon the existence of the Immortal Vampire and Lycans? Sure, he'd known a bit from what Hollywood had shown him, but his upbringing in Voodoo taught him about spirits, magic, and balance; not beasts. However, in his studies over native religions in pre-christian era Europe he found dozens of references pointing to the Immortals. They became his obsession almost instantly.

However, everything took a a quick turn nearly twenty years ago in Italy. Michael had freshly earned his Doctorate in Sociology and he was in Italy examining ruins of first generation churches around the Vatican. What his employers didn't know was that Michael had been contacted by a Vampire, a female of rank in the Roman Coven, inviting him to their Manor. Through contacts Michael had put out, which was a nice way of saying he bribed the hell out of some people for information, the Vampires had heard of his interest in meeting their kind. Whether it had been out of some sick pleasure, or merely to have some fun and terrify a Human he'd never know.

All anyone has ever been able to get out of Michael about the two months he spent captive with the Roman Coven is that it instilled in him a deep seeded hatred. A hatred that turned a field-scientist into a Hunter.

Michael never returned to New Orleans, instead moving to New York City. He never took up another job for any Universities, instead burying the fact that he'd been a scientist. It wasn't much use to him anymore in all honesty. Instead he turned his mind another way, and after a few painful classes Michael had his Private Investigators license. The course had been a breeze, the childhood being tested and grilled by a Detective for a Dad had given him an unfair advantage to the minimal requirements of the class.

And that's that in a nutshell. Michael began building a reputation as a guy in the city you could bring a case to you weren't comfortable giving to the cops. He didn't judge, he never laughed, and usually he got the job done. Sometimes it was someone who wanted their home or newborn blessed, in which case he busted out his voodoo memoirs from home and gave them what they wanted. Others had Vampires or Lycans that had attacked them or loved ones and they wanted them dead. The jobs where always different, and he usually took them. However, he had a couple rules. One, no contracts on kids. Immortal or not. Two, he won't go through with a kill without first seeing the target. He hates most Immortals, but he refuses to let it turn him into a blind killer. And three, he won't take on a suicide mission. He isn't anyone's martyr.

~*RP Sample:

Vampiric eyes stayed focused upon the dance floor below, locking onto the mass of bodies that seemed to move in unison to the over-powering beat. Closing his eyes, Adrian allowed his telepathic powers to branch out, tapping into the raw energy of the place; it screamed of lust and passion. Letting his lips flitter into a soft smirk the Vampire allowed his eyes to open once again though this time silence fell upon his ears. It was a skill perfected over hundreds of years, a form of meditation taught to him long ago by a Saracen Mystic. All exterior noise became blocked out allowing the Vampire to drift into perfect silence, and from that silence he was able to feel the aura's about his own club. It was a tactic used every night; he was scanning everyone inside, looking for anyone who didn't belong. Usually that meant Werewolves, Hunters and Angels; though while he was scanning the crowd he came upon something he wasn't expecting.

Demons. They always had the same effect on him. They sent a soft chill dancing down his spine, however, it didn't come from fear or panic. Oh no, the chill was one of pure delight and excitement; a sudden thrill was sent rushing through him at the sight of the dark beings. Adrian was one of the few people who actually looked forward to company with Demons, after all they where the original evils. They had been the ones to turn their back upon God first, they had been the ones to take to the shadows; all other creatures who walked the darkness merely walked in the footsteps carved eons ago by the Demons.

So there Adrian stood, drink in one hand and the other gripping the balcony, though his gaze had shifted to stare down at the first floor bar and it was there he saw her. He couldn't help but allow a small, wicked little grin to dance across his lips as he took the sight of her in. Dark, seductive and oozing raw sex appeal. Oh yeah, this girl was a Demon for sure and she was one not to be taken lightly. However, this didn't bring fear to the heart of the Vampire, after all, what reason did a child of Darkness have to fear a Demon? That was like a holy man fearing an Angel. No, this vixen merely was an embodiment of the very things Adrian worked in the name of. Luckily for the Vampire he was a man well versed in the arts of seduction and for that reason the initial sighting of the Demoness wasn't enough to send him into the blind thrawls of lust like some men, but he was interested to find out who she was and what had lead her to his doorstep.

Tipping his head back Adrian swallowed the remaining contents of the wine glass, and turning on his heel, walked away from the balcony. Placing the glass upon the bar Adrian glanced to Veric, a Vampire clad in a dark suit who carried a blank and cold look to his face. Veric quickly came to Adrian's side and stood silently, awaiting orders from the older Vampire. "Veric, go down to the bar. There's a Demoness, you will know her when you see her. Bring her up here." Without a single question Veric simply bowed his head than walked to the stairs leading down to the first floor and once there he sent two vampires down to the bar to fetch the Demon and invite her up to an audience with Adrian.

Looking to the few people scattered about the second floor, Adrian merely pointed to the stairs and without a single word, watched as they all stood and exited without a sound. All of them aside from one woman, a Shifter by the name of Tam. She was in her mid-thirties and one of the few twisted ladies around who could keep Adrian's interest, which was evident by the many puncture marks about her neck all left from the Dragos Vampire. Looking to Tam, Adrian allowed a twisted smile to part his lips. "Give me another, dear." Tam glanced up to Adrian, a small delight in her eyes. She knew Adrian was bringing the Demoness upstairs, and she knew whatever happened she would get to see. It was one of her sick little pleasures, watching Adrian and the way he forced his darkness upon others. The sick delight she took was probably one of the only reasons Adrian had kept her around for so long. However, she did not question the Vampire, and without another seconds hesitation poured another glass of blood-spiked wine.

Taking another drink, Adrian plopped himself down onto one of the black-leather couches, his eyes fixed upon the stairs before him as he waited. Whatever the Demoness was here for intrigued him, and if it ended up she was the newest in a long list of people trying to kill him...well then it looked like he'd have to find a way to tear her heart out.

Though he really hoped that wasn't what tonight was going to be about.

Optional: Mike boasts an effective and sharp mind capable of quick deduction of facts. He is an exceptional problem solver as will as incredibly rational. He isn't the kind of man to give into blind emotions, he thinks everything through and moves with purpose and care. Although not the strongest fighter in the world, he is a good enough shot that with a UV or Silver Nitrate round in his gun he can take out an Immortal. When forced into hand to hand he is a dirty fighter that goes for quick pain, and if needed kills. Also, he takes an unusual amount of pride in his salt-water aquarium. Don't ask why.

*Likes:
-Scones
-Coffee
-Books. That's more of a love, though.
-His pet fish


*Dislikes:
-When people come to him for help and then refuse to believe him when he uses words like "Vampire" "Werewolf" or "Immortal".
-Skeptics in general piss Michael off.

*What you want to see happen to your character: Nothing too much planned yet.
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